Perfection as Life
by mintaminta
Summary: When Draco’s own problems are spinning out of control, he needs more than ever to reach out. But what if the one person that could help him is the one he keeps pushing away? SLASH!
1. The Pressure of Perfection

**Title:** The Pressure of Perfection

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** When Draco's own problems are spinning out of control, he needs more than ever to reach out. But what if the one person that could help him is the one he keeps pushing away?

**Warning! **(eventual)SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N:** Ok, this is my third fic and I hope you enjoy it as much as the last two. In this Draco starts of a little OCD and it goes from there. This one is going to be updated every Friday as well, but this is sort of a testing chapter to see how you like the plot line. Please give me all the feedback you can in you're reviews, it only ever makes my life and writing better!

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Chapter 1 - Pressures of Perfection

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I can't believe what he made us do today.

Care of Magical Creatures has never been my favorite class, especially because we've always had to share it with the Gryffindors. But lately everything had been so damn disgusting and dirty and positively vile that I couldn't believe this was sanitary or legal. Not to mention that, but my week already looked bleak so this was just another stupid class to live through.

It was such a scorching hot day that before class even started most people had shed they're cloaks and opted for rolled up sleeves and loose ties. Even the ever uptight me did it, rolling my sleeves up to my elbows and undoing my green and silver silk tie enough to undo the first two buttons of my shirt.

Hagrid plodded out of his hut a moment or two later, already beaming about whatever it was we were doing today. To start the class we were put into pairs with people from the opposite class and lucky old me got who you wonder? No-one other than the infamously tall Ron Weasley, that's who. He had the nerve to scowl at me when Hagrid pulled our names out of the enormously moth eaten hat in his hands, and then grudgingly plod over to meet me.

"Well, I'm just as pleased to see you as well Weasley." I said this in such a sickeningly happy tone that he didn't even reply, just scowled some more at me. Truth was that I actually was happy to see him, technically. Last time I had been paired with Potter and we were both sore from the fight that had erupted at that. At least Weasley I could control a little bit, although he was so much bigger than me by now he could easily knock me unconscious with a few well places punches. But I had the upper hand here; I had the tact of mind to keep him at bay.

"Well, today's class'll be centered aroun' these gorgeous buggers! Aren't they wonderful?" Hagrid had kneeled down to pluck what looked like a huge weed from the ground and emerged instead with a rabbit like animal with shiny black fur and enormous eyes. Truth be told they looked like a sickening excuse for the cute bunnies that frolicked on the Hogwarts grounds but I kept my mouth shut for once.

"Now you'll have ta' look fer the big dark green leaves a' the top, but don' be surprised when you find one o' these! Anyone know what thi' is?" Granger's hand shot straight into the air, and nobody else even tried to guess at it. Hagrid nodded at her and she smiled brightly and replied.

"That is a Faustus, a burrowing creature that's leaf like ears can be easily snipped and used in many medical potions for anxiety. They don't even feel it, but they can bite with a poisonous after effect if you snip too closely." Hagrid beamed at her, the prize student.

"Hermione here gave you all the explanation I was gon' to, so get to work wi' your parters. Find a shady patch, tha's where they live. One of you'll hold them and the other'll snip off as much as possible. Whomever I give the scissors'll be the one who clips them, alright? You'll be marked on how much you collect and you'll be docked marks for hurting any of em." He then walked around and passed out sets of shears to various students, giving our pair to Ron.

"Oh that's just peachy, lets let Malfoy do all the dirty work." I grumbled and walked away towards a shady section of the forest and plucked up a rather huge one, while Ron silently began to clip parts of the ears off and collect them in a pile.

"Gods Malfoy it's only a bit of dirt! It's not going to kill you. Hold it a bit further down." Ron was being very… civil today and I didn't feel like starting any huge fights while he was holding a sharp pair of shears, so we worked in hospitable silence for a few minutes until he broke it with a question.

"How's your first week back going Malfoy?' he asked, continuing to snip at a new Faustus as the one we had finished hopped about around us and then started to rebury itself.

I for one was stunned beyond words. Ronald Weasley was making small talk with me? What was the world coming to?

"Umm…not too bad so far. It's about to get worse though." I sighed and he nodded and flicked his long red bangs from his eyes, thinking.

"Why is that?"

"Well my Father is quite obviously supposed to be in Azkaban but somehow managed to pay his way out for a visit here to speak with me and Dumbledore. That is a feat I even didn't think he'd manage but I guess he pulled it off. So that's why my week is going downhill. I don't even know why he's coming but it'll be all of the papers by Friday, mark my words." I drabbled much too long that time, and abruptly stopped speaking as I realized I had given away too much information. "No-one is supposed to know that, so you can't tell a soul. Not even your dearest Golden boy or brainiac, got it?" Ron scowled for a second and then nodded once before continuing in silence.

I was astonished yet again. Why was he being so civil and nice and understanding all of a sudden? Why did he care how my week was going, about what I was dealing with? And then it clicked.

"You just asked that question to find something out about me didn't you? You wanted some information about my Father and all our evil doings and now you have it. I can't believe I even spoke out loud to you, I must be freaking losing my mind to trust the likes of you." Ron stopped snipping and I dropped the Faustus half way done, and we just stared.

"You really think that? You are the most paranoid person I have ever met. Ever heard of small talk?"

I scowled and opened my mouth to retort but it was already the end of class and Hagrid was calling everyone in. I smirked at Ron, something that never failed to piss him off and then strode away, picking up my cloak and bag in one fluid motion.

"Where the hell do you think your going? We need to hand this stuff in!" he yelled from behind me. I turned around and gestured at my now brown stained shirt and hands and smiled at him.

"I need to clean up after getting so dirty. Thanks for finishing up for me." He looked about ready to run forward and throttle me as there were so much clippings to carry he would definitely be late to Potions. Luckily for him, the hero Potter came to save the day and I could slip away to the Prefect bathrooms to clean up.

My hands were stained with mud, my shirt streaked with dust and my pants' knees had dark grass stains that shone a little on the black fabric. None of this seemed salvageable, so I threw them all out and snapped my fingers for a house elf to bring me up new ones.

Normally I'd be a little grossed out, cleaned up with a charm or two and then be on my way. But I remembered that my Father was coming tomorrow and he _never_ accepted any signs of unseemliness. I sighed wearily and turned on the taps, waiting for the water to warm up. This wouldn't go over too well. Not well at all.

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"Quiet down. For today's class I have discussed a few options with the Headmaster and to uncomplicate things from now on you will now be with your partners from Care of Magical Creatures whenever we are paired in this class. This way I won't waste _my_ time deciding who should be with whom." Half the class was groaning about they're pairings, the rest were happy to be with the people they had been chosen to go with. Harry turned towards me and gave a sympathetic grin.

"Hey, at least Malfoy's good at potions, right?" I just scowled and then scanned the room for him. His telltale blonde hair was nowhere to be seen on the Slytherin part of the room, and he definitely wasn't sitting on our side.

"Yeah I guess so… have you even seen him since last class? He left before us from Care of Magical Creatures and he's never skipped a class of Potions before without a reason." Harry turned to scan the room as well, then shrugged and started to gather his things.

"No clue, maybe he just felt so ill from all the hard work he needed a little nappy time." He smiled and then walked away towards his partner. "Tell Snape and maybe you can go with us?" Harry's partner was basically the nicest Slytherin we had never known. Felix, a bright guy whose parents were both in Ravenclaw and who wasn't a complete ass towards all Gryffindors had been paired with him so Harry was actually really happy with the arrangements. I nodded and walked up to Snape, him sitting behind his desk and pointedly ignoring me.

"Professor Snape? Professor Snape? My partner is absent." Snape pretended not to hear me so I just sighed with frustration and started to walk away.

"And who might your partner be Mr. Weasley?" he drawled slowly like it just took _so_ much effort to speak to me.

"Draco Malfoy sir." His eyebrows shot up, a surprised look like I have never seen on his greasy face.

"Was he perilously hurt in your last class as so he couldn't make it?"

"No sir, he went to wash his hands sir." Snape seemed more alarmed now than before, not understanding the idea of his prize student skipping class.

"Since you cannot possibly finish this potion by yourself Weasley," he started, adding plenty of hints to my abhorable abilities at potion making, "you can go and try and find Mr. Malfoy and return either with him or without him and a reason. Understood?" I nodded once and started out of the class, mouthing 'YES!' to Harry from across the room on my way out.

I got to skip potions as long as I came back later with an explanation. This must be the best moment of my Potions career! I walked slowly through the hallways, checking two bathrooms for Malfoy just to be sure he wasn't in them as I steadily made my way up the castle.

No sign of him in the dungeons. Not on the first floor. Not even on the second or third floor. I kept slowly searching, knowing that I probably should go to the Hospital Wing first but I was leaving that until last. Eventually there were only ten minutes left before break began and the only bathroom left was the Prefects bathroom.

_Of course Malfoy's in there! He's a Prefect, why would he even think of acquainting himself with the lower class bathrooms on the other floors!_

"Marshmallow delight." The portrait swung forward for me to enter the bathroom and as I stepped into the enormous room the sound of running water could be heard from a far side of the space. Sure enough Malfoy was standing over a porcelain sink in the furthest back corner from the door, scrubbing his hands with vigor. His shirt was discarded into a nearby wastebasket, as were his old black slacks. He wore a fresh new pair of pants, crisp and ironed to perfection. His white button up shirt wasn't done up at all but the sleeves were rolled up high and his tie hung limply and undone around his neck.

"Uh… Malfoy? What the hell are you still doing here?" I asked him, and he jumped in surprise at me, not having noticed my entering.

"Well, some of us have standards of cleanliness and this is what you would call washing your hands Weasley." He addressed me like I was 4 years old and then went back to the sink and continued scrubbing.

"Malfoy, how long have you been up here?" he flicked his white blonde hair from his eyes and shrugged.

"No clue. A few minutes I guess. I just can't get the dirt out from under my nails…" he murmured, squinting into the basin at his hands. I walked closer to see, and gasped with shock.

His hands were an angry bright red, the colour your skin turns when you get a really nasty scratch and it inflames. At his wrists the colour returned to its normal paleness of the lightest tan. The water rushed about them and he continued to scrub under his nails with a cloth, then threw it too in the wastebasket and tried with the nails from his other hand. The water flowed pink now, all the edges of his nails were bleeding from being butchered for so long.

"Malfoy, stop it." I whispered in astonishment. "Stop it, please." He didn't though, so I grabbed his hands away and then flicked my hand toward the tap to cause it to stop flowing. His hands were cold as ice; the water had been kept on its most freezing limit.

"Do you know how long you've been up here?" he shook his head no, no longer using any well placed insults to reply.

"It's nearly the end of Potions; you've been up here for more than an hour." His eyes widened with surprise, and then he shook his head again, not believing me.

"Look at your hands Malfoy, they're fucking bleeding you've been scrubbing them so long! And feel them? No you can't because they're nearly frozen, there's probably no more hot water coming up here!" I let go of his hands and he just stood and stared at them amazed, like this was the first time he had noticed any of those things. He reminded me of an astonished 6 year old child told some amazing fact about something they had never known.

"Why are you doing this Malfoy?" I whispered, keeping my eyes on him and walking away to grab a fluffy white towel from the rack and wrapping his hands in it.

"My Father is coming tomorrow. He hates it when I get dirty, hates it. He nitpicks everything, everything. If there's nothing wrong with me then he has nothing to be mad about. Right? Right? If I'm perfect when I see him then he can't be angry with me. He can't be, right? And my nails were just so dirty. So dirty." he kept repeating his sentences and words, staring off at the opposite wall as I tenderly dried with hands and cast a few simple healing spells on them to help them mend.

"Your Father can find mistakes about anything, anytime, any day. That's what he does Draco, he messes up other people. It's actually his job to bring other people down." I gestured him to sit down on a low bench and walked away to get a few scented creams from the counter. They were magically pre-warmed and filled with the best of everything, so within half a minute of rubbing them in his skin was turning from an angry red to a light pink, and the temperature of them was almost back to normal. He no longer so aggravated and distant, he was quickly returning to normal.

"Not a word of this Weasley, no matter how tempting. Promise me?" he whispered eventually. I looked up from his hands and gave him a little smile.

"'Course. I'm not evil you know. But we have to make up something to tell Snape about why you were absent."

Draco sighed with relief at this and nodded thoughtfully. "Just tell him that I was worried about my Father coming and someone in Gryffindor told me there was an urgent message about his arrival. I waited for a long time to get it but it was some sick joke, and by the time you found me class was over. He never asks twice about what I say, trust me." He carefully buttoned his shirt and tied his tie, and then walked over to the sink furthest away from the one he had been using and tried to fix his hair. He huffed and just mussed it up, the sunlight streaming in from the open window making it glow like spun gold.

"Let's get out of here before one of your retarded friends storms in and kills me for keeping you." He was right back to normal Malfoy now; he strode efficiently towards the doorway without a second glance back at me.

"No problem at all, helping out that is." I muttered and then set off after him to catch up. I walked with him silently all the way towards the dungeons through he now empty halls and then after a brief explanation to Snape back up again to supper. Everyone was already in the Great Hall and we met not a soul in either direction.

"Thank you Weasley." He whispered and then stepped through the doors towards his Slytherin friends, and I just walked bewildered towards the Gryffindor table.

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A/N: You likee? You hatee? You TELLEE! Sorry for pissing you off but I live for feedback so if you've read this far along you owe it to yourself to review. Please do!

!REVIEW!

(luv, mintapotter)


	2. His Mirror Image

**Title:** The Pressure of Perfection

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** When Draco's own problems are spinning out of control, he needs more than ever to reach out. But what if the one person that could help him is the one he keeps pushing away?

**Warning! **SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

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**Chapter 2 – His Mirror Image**

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"Ron? Ron, are you still with us?" Harry waved a hand over my faced and grinned at me, my attentions slowly coming back to real life.

"Yeah, I'm just thinking…"

To tell the honest truth, ever since the ordeal with Draco in the Prefect bathrooms yesterday I just couldn't help but keep him out of my mind. I constantly thought about when the meeting with his Father would be, how he was dealing with it, if he was ok… Normally all these thoughts wouldn't have crossed my mind twice but now they blocked out so many of my thoughts to the point that they were overwhelming.

"Draco, you've been called to the Headmasters office. Please pack your belongings and go straight there." McGonagall gave him a clipped smile and continued to walk down our row, passing Harry, Hermione and I as she made her rounds of the class.

Hermione was trying to explain the latest transfiguration assignment (turning a wine glass into a tulip) but I completely blocked her out, lost in my viewing of Draco.

The moment he was told to go all he did was nod complacently, not a flicker of fear or wonder ever flashed over his face or eyes. He calmly packed his books away, pointedly ignoring Goyle and Crabbe's inquisitions about what the meeting was about. Only in the last second before he left did I catch his eyes. For a second he was almost pleading, like he was wishing I would just get up and go with him. Then he broke the gaze and walked past me, his clipped strides echoing down the classroom and out the hallway until I could only hear them in my imagination.

"Ron? Are you sure that you're ok, you seem worried over something?" Hermione was unexpectantly at my side, kneeling with a concerned look on her face.

"Yeah, I'm just not feeling all that well. Maybe I'll spend a period in the dorms; it's probably just a cold or something." Harry already had my books in my bag for me, and McGonagall gave me a written note of absence, telling me that she had noticed I was "unusually in the clouds" today.

I flopped into bed, trying to calm my own thoughts of Draco's meeting, trying to sort out why I even cared.

It all come down to the fact that somewhere in the git I hated there was someone, _something_, that was scared and I was the only one who knew about it. I was the only one who could help him through any of this.

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"Draco, son. How good to see you." Father gave me the most revoltingly fake smile I had ever seen, something only I ever seemed able to spot.

"Can't say the same to you." His smile faltered only a second but he gave a short laugh like _Oh, what a funny joke son! _When what he really meant was _Oh, you are SO in for it once I get you alone._

"So, why's this meeting worth so many Galleons to you? What's so important?" he kept up his immaculate façade, mainly because Professor Snape and Dumbledore had enough charms on the room to detect any foul-play. He only clenched and unclenched his fist on the table between us, channeling his anger into his movements.

"I needed to talk to you, settle some family business. Such as my will, the inheritance…" I scoffed, something I could never dare do to him back at home. Well, I had but had always paid dearly for doing it.

"Shouldn't you be talking to Mother about this? She deals with the money, and I thought that the will and everything was already settled." He leaned back in his chair and smiled, still trying hard not to outright throttle me.

"Well, I've decided upon a few necessary changes. Such as, only if you take on a_ noble profession,_" he put a deep emphasis on the words, "will you inherit any money from the family. Only if you find a _suitable_ partner will you be a part of the will." I knew exactly of what my Father was talking about, and wanted nothing to do with it.

By _noble profession_ he meant becoming a Death Eater, and by _suitable partner_ he meant finding a wife. He wasn't going to win on either count, seeing as how I was ready to fight Voldemort (yes, I call him by his name) and because in the past few years I had given up all tastes in girls. I was about as straight as a circle, and he apparently knew this.

I laughed at him, allowing myself to smirk in the manner he so often used on him 'inferiors'. "I am sorry about that Father, I understand completely of what you are talking about and can't promise you either."

His eyes were about to burn holes through me, he wanted nothing more than to Crucio some sense back into me. But even though his patience was wearing thin, he apparently didn't want to meeting to end this quickly.

"That will change son, I am sure. On to more personal matters…" he leaned back in his chair, menacing in a way that still sent chills up and down my spine. "Even if you choose right now to rebel against your heritage, in weeks, months or years you will regret it. You must keep up the family image by who you integrate with and how you look and act. Speaking of how you look," he smiled evilly, as though he might finally get a little revenge at all my smart ass comments of the day, "you seem to be lacking a lot in that department. Your hair is much too long."

I kept his gaze, staring into the eyes to like my own. I felt like fighting him, to yelling or laughing it off but the old part of me one out. He was always right in the end, no matter how hard I fought against it. But even if on the inside he made me feel as ugly as I knew I looked, I still had words to fight with.

"I like it exactly as it is. I've no plans to change it any time soon, and you cannot force me." He cocked his head to the side, as if examining it. His own hair had been sheared when he went into Azkaban, nearly buzzed off. My own was kind of shaggy and only past my ears, and I prided that fact that I didn't completely resemble him. I _never_ wanted to be like him, on the inside or out.

"Well I don't like it like that, so I'm going to fix it." With a flick of his hand I could feel the locks of my silver blonde hair fall to my shoulders. I nervously brushed my hands over my scalp and only found a short buzz cuts amount worth left. My throat instantly tightened, my eyes prickled with tears I wouldn't possibly let fall.

Only seconds later Dumbledore and two other burly Aurors for Azkaban rushed in, the men grabbing my Father from either side and hauling him out of the room. He cocked his head at me and smirked as they pulled him out, as if to say _Got you back, bitch._

Dumbledore walked up beside me the moment they were gone, muttering a charm to make my fallen hair disappear.

"Mr. Malfoy, I am terribly sorry, had we been a moment earlier-" I rose my hand and waved him off, grabbing my book bag as I walked out of the room.

"I'm fine, just fine." I lied.

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"…fucking never wanted to be like him, fucking never ever wanted to be like him…" I was working only on the hope that Draco would return to the Prefects bathroom, so I was a little bit surprised to find his angry voice from a corner of it as I walked in.

"Draco are you-"

"SHUT UP! LEAVE THIS INSTANT DON'T COME NEAR ME!" his screaming echoed throughout the walls of the tiled space, the words shocking me with they're violence. Only seconds later I could make out sobbing from the same back corner of the bathroom as yesterday.

"Draco I'm coming over ok? It's Ron, just me…" I peered around the separating wall to find him crouched in a tiny ball, his head curled down into his knees, his arms covering his it.

"No, you shouldn't, you can't see me, you can't, not like this..." I could barely make out his sentences but I sat down beside him and rubbed his arm, waiting for him to stop crying so I could talk with him.

"Want to talk a little bit?" I asked quietly as the sobbing subsided.

"No." he replied sulkily, not lifting his head to respond. I was starting to wonder what was so wrong that he wouldn't even look me in the face.

"What is it that you don't want me to see? Just lift your face up so I can talk to you, ok?" I walked away to give him a moment and grabbed a handful of tissues from a rack, then returned.

"Promise not to laugh? If you do, I will kill you." His muffled voice didn't sound remotely angry, just a little scared.

" 'Course I won't laugh. I promise."

He hesitantly lifted his head up, his face still wet with tears. "Come on, you know you want to Weasley."

Light from the setting afternoon sun streamed into the windows on the wall opposite us and made him glow like gold. His hair had been cut off short, something only he could possibly pull off and make it look good. Truly, magnificently good. Everything about him was clean lines, sharp features and the haircut only accentuated this.

"It looks great you git. Mind, only you can pull it off, but it looks more than fine." I passed him the tissues to wipe his eyes and blow his nose, watching his face light up at my words from the corner of my eye.

"You're lying and I know it. It looks terrible and I didn't even want it done." I shook my head, turning back towards him.

"It really does look good Draco, and coming from me you know it's true. Have I ever lied to you before?" he shrugged, although his mouth was playing at the corners with a smile.

"So now that you know you still look fabulous, can you tell me why you have this particular haircut?" The half smile disappeared, his face ice cold and angry once again.

"I didn't want it. My Father cut it all off with a wave of his hand because 'he didn't like it'. He got hauled off right after, but he still managed it without even using a wand." I sat in silence and absorbed this information, just enjoying the suns warm glow.

"Want to talk about the rest of the meeting? Must have been pretty harsh for him to do that." Draco sighed, recounting it from begin to end in seemingly perfect detail.

"…then he went on about me needing a noble career and a suitable mate and all that crap, which basically means being evil and finding a Slytherin wife-"

"Opposed to?" I asked, thinking these were two much guaranteed things from the Slytherin Prince.

"Well, changing over for the good and finding a great g-" he stopped abruptly, about the same thing my heart did at his words. Was he about to say a great _guy_? Was he confessing to being _gay?_

"You didn't just hear that." He whispered beside me, his tone more scared than I had ever heard it. Something old inside of me thought this could possibly be the hugest gossip ever, something to get back at him for all the years of 'Mudblood' and 'Weasley' teasing. But that part of me seemed long dead to the world, overridden by the need to protect him.

"I heard nothing. To anyone outside of this room, I know nothing out of the ordinary about you." Draco sighed thankfully, and then got up to got over to one of the bathrooms many mirrors. He pushed past the moment, already back at his own self-loathing.

"Just with this hair, and my eyes, and my face, and skin…" he viewed himself at every angle in the mirror, getting angrier with every second. "I hate this, I'm like I mirror image of him now, I hate that he's trying to make me just like him…" his fury had built up so much that the mirror magically imploded, shattering into huge pieces all over the porcelain sink. He stood in shock, not even shaking off the shards that had landed on his front and shoulders.

"Draco, you're not him, you never will be. You're nothing alike, you aren't and you know it…" He nodded blankly, his mouth twitching downwards as he walked back towards me. All his features were bunched up against his sob, but as soon as I held him he broke down and let it all go again.

"Shh Draco, its fine. You're nothing like him, you aren't. He's evil and you have so much potential to be good. He's twisted and vile and you are so beautiful, without even knowing it…" words just flowed out of my mouth as I held onto him, hoping against hope that the moment would never end. If we could be alone in that room, with just the sunshine and him I would be happy to never see another soul again.

Only then did I realize that no matter how cold and calculating he appeared to the world at large, he was truly just a fragile little soul, easily crushed. Anything could set him off at times like this; anything could break him just that little bit more.

_I_ was the one thing that could fix him. _I_ was the one he trusted, _I_ was the one he needed now above anyone else._ I_ was the only person in the world who could help Draco Malfoy, and for some reason it was the only thing in the world I truly wanted to do.

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**A/N:** I hope you are truly enjoying this, my pretties! I love to write this, and hope you can give some feedback on how to improve through a REVIEW!

mintapotter


	3. Demons

**Title:** The Pressure of Perfection

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** When Draco's own problems are spinning out of control, he needs more than ever to reach out. But what if the one person that could help him is the one he keeps pushing away?

**Warning! **SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N:** I simply can't get enough of writing this story, so here goes round 3! It's the POV of Draco and Ron this time, you'll understand when it changes…

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Chapter 3 - Demons

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Ron is sitting at a table at the very back of the library, normally a spot reserved for the hardcore make-outers but now a quiet and peaceful spot. He appears to be studying without much success, traveling from book to book across the table to find something and then going back to the first one anyway. I laugh at him just a little and take a seat, amazed that the other 2/3's of the Golden Trio aren't present.

"Suddenly into studying alone I see?" he looks up, startled like he didn't hear me coming. Come to think of it, I was being extra stealthy because I liked how he looked when he thought no one was watching.

"Nah, I do this occasionally. Hermione's methods give me a headache, and Harry's at Quidditch practices all the time so, "he waves at all the piled books and papers, "here's my own feeble attempt."

"Let me help you, oh poor pathetic Gryffindor. I presume it's the potion essay? Oh, I got that done ages ago…"

We spend a quite half-hour together, me mostly quietly nudging him towards the right pages and paragraphs for the right information, him mostly grinning like an idiot every time he thinks he found it on his own. I let him be happy for a little while, until he finally cuts to the chase.

"Why the sudden change in everything Malfoy?" he's finished the second parchment and is taking a break, leaning back into his chair. "Why so civil, so nice so… trusting with all your problems? Why me?" he lowers his voice, like the books around us might be recording or conversation, like the walls can talk.

_In a place like Hogwarts, I don't doubt either for a second._

"Well, you already saw to much for me ton properly obliviate you, so I guessed I'd keep you around until I figured out a way to selectively obliviate your memories." I say this with a completely straight face, but explode into laughter at the look of horror on his face.

"Kidding you idiot, I was kidding. Made a joke. Ha-ha." I wave it off and continue, the thoughts I'm trying to form into words making knots in my stomach. "You're a good outlet. You understand basic words, more so than all of my Slytherin companions. You saw enough of the fucked up version of me and didn't care, which was nice. You're just… helpful? Nice? Are you fishing for compliments Weasley, because today I seem to be doling them out for free." He shakes his head and offers a smile, returning to write down the last bits of his essay.

"By the way, that would have been an opportune moment to give me a compliment on my new haircut. I've been getting a few lately." Ron smiles and shakes his head at me, dotting his last i's and crossing his last t's before settling back into his chair to talk.

"I already told you that I think it looks fine. You somehow manage to pull it off, you sneaky bastard." Draco smirks, rubbing his hand over his newly shorn locks. "It's growing on me. I hate it less, at least." I shrug it off, conveniently forgetting to mention the hour I spent screaming at my mirror last night, before, smashing every single one in my room. I cleaned up every shard by hand before the morning too, not wanting a house-elf to blab about my freak out session. The last thing I needed right now was any negative press.

"It's nearly time for supper. Hope Snape passes you on that essay. I'll put in a reasonable word for you." I smile at him and leave with a pleasant feeling in my stomach, a nice replacement for the knots that seem to curl there whenever I'm in public. I leave my conversation with Ron lighter than when I joined him, feeling happier than I have in years.

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"So, where did you run off to this afternoon?" Hermione and Harry sit beside me, Harry digging into the Shepherds pie, Hermione beginning on some steaming fish and chips.

"I spent the time studying in the library actually, and Draco helped me with my essay. I actually might get a good mark on it this bloody time."

"But why's he being so … nice? It's totally opposite to him. Maybe it's all a plan to get into the other sides plan, to sabotage us." Harry munched his food slowly, thinking through all the possible angles.

"Trust me, you're dead wrong. Come on here, I'm his biggest enemy right after you, and _I _trust him. That's got to count for something. Only thing is that he needs to get away from the Slytherin, to be away from their influence. He needs… well us I suppose." Harry coughed on his food; Hermione patted his back carefully, eyeing me suspiciously.

"Do you really think that that's a wise decision? You're speaking more wisely than you have since I've ever known you, and that scares me a bit. I'm just skeptical, but not against it. Let us have some time to think it over." Harry was still shaking his head, not quite wrapping his head around the idea.

"I'm not asking that we adopt him, just influence him in the right direction. Give it some thought…" Harry nodded at this but said nothing more about it through the rest of supper. I actually sighed in relief to see that Draco hadn't shown up. The new do was already the gossip of the school, and now he was avoiding most human contact, avoiding the eventual coming out of what happened. I was just happy that he didn't have to deal with Hogwarts as a whole.

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His luck with the entire gossip being kept on the down low? Eradicated along with a notorious Page 6 article in the Daily Prophet.

The breakfast crowd was buzzing with this latest piece of gossip, the story to Draco's new haircut earning Page 6 status. Some were astonished into silence with the idea of Draco going against his Father in an argument, of avoiding the path of a Death Eater. Most, however, were chattering and whispering about it with an odd enthusiasm.

Harry, myself and Hermione all shared her paper, reading once through together and then again alone just to believe that it was all real. I shook my head at the absurdity of it all, how the Prophet got the story and the rights to publish it…

"Lucky it's not me on the cover for once. But poor bloke, really…can't feel sorry for him." Harry shrugged it off, something that flared anger in me that I had never felt towards him before.

"Harry! How can you say that?" Hermione rebuked him before I could get to it, relieving me from having to defend Draco as vehemently as I was ready to.

"What has he not tried to fuck up in my life? He's brought me down on every front, always at the head of the Harry-bashing parade! The question is how everyone else can forget his entire history and just let him off the hook for it because of one act. That's all this could be. An act." He was surprisingly angry about it all, his words rushed but making way too much sense for my liking. "Last night when you asked about kind of taking him in I just shrugged it off, but I can't see it happening at all. It's all too… believable to believe. You know?"

Normally I'd be at Harry's side in an argument like this one, but I felt like I was the only one who knew the story behind the scenes. I had seen how Draco reacted to the meeting, before and after. I was the only one who really got this for what it was.

"Harry, you have the biggest paranoid-trust problem I've ever seen. Can't you just see something for what it is? For once?" As I said the words my anger at him seemed to seep out into the air, and he appeared to inhale it instantly.

"_I_ have a paranoid-trust issue? No, really Ron, don't be ridiculous!" his voice drips sarcasm and anger, two things that never mix when he's talking to me. "I wonder why the fuck that is? Why I only seem to trust, oh, 5 people completely! You shouldn't be asking me why I don't trust Draco fucking Malfoy, you should give me a reason to trust him in the first place!" Harry shakes his head, biting back more words that would surely be angrier than the first. A few of our classmates are taking notice now as well. The Golden Trio having a conflict was nearly as big a piece of gossip meat as Draco Malfoy being on the good side.

Hermione sits stock still, like she doesn't want to believe that we are fighting about anything at all. Harry shakes his head more, his anger now turning to… sadness.

"I wonder why the fuck that is…" he murmured, than pushed himself away from the table and began a quick escape out. I can tell exactly where this was going, what is happening. I had inadvertently re-opened the entire scenario of Sirius' death, of how it had happened and why he had so few people around him now that he let into his inner circle. Hermione instantly followed him out, and I followed her.

The moment that we were out of the Great Hall however, she turned on me.

"You'll only set him off again if he sees you now! You talk to him later, once he's cooled off. You go for a walk or something. Calm down yourself while you're at it. I'll take care of this." I nod lamely and let her go, choosing an opposite route outside to completely avoid her and Harry for the next few hours.

I walked along the edges of the lake, making a huge circle near the edges. I calmed down with the smell crisp fall air, the view of golden hued trees as far as the eye could see and the sound of lapping waves on the beach near me. And there, beneath the huge oak on that very same beach, sat the person I had most hoped to find here.

"So, I suppose you saw the article, huh?" he asked calmly without looking up at me, not allowing a tremor to enter his voice. He stared steadily out into the depths of the lake, avoiding my glances.

I sat down next to him, both of us watching a group of ducks on the lake rather than each other.

"Yeah, I did. Me and the rest of the school actually." He didn't respond, so I just kept talking. "They managed to put a really good spin on it though. It showcased that you aren't going for your Father's plans or anything, that you want to be good. Some believe it, some think that it's all some big ploy. Some people being the rest of the Gryffindor house, that is."

He chuckled a little at this, but I sighed to show that it really was a big deal to me. "I tried talking to Harry and Hermio-"

"Don't even try. I can't believe that you even care, but getting them to is way to far-fetched. They'll never go for it, not after how I've treated you over the times. I wouldn't forgive me if I was you…" It actually broke my heart to turn and see him looking so completely remorseful about our shared past. I could tell that he's biting the inside of his lip, keeping himself from saying anything more.

"They'll turn around, trust me. I'll get them to see the good in you. If I can get past all our past problems, they will too. And if they won't do it for you, they'll do it for me." He still wouldn't say I word so I let my words drop into the breeze, sharing whom knows how much time under that oak.

"It's afternoon now." He whispers into my ear later, awaking me from a very light sleep. My head had been resting on his shoulder, and I awoke to his scent of vanilla and the feeling of the now hot afternoon sun on my face.

"How long have I been asleep?" I rub my eyes and yawn as a convenient way to get off of his shoulder without any embarrassment.

"I'm not sure, maybe an hour or two. It was nice outside here though and I don't have much to look forward to inside the school." He gets to his feet and offers a hand to help me up, brushing the bits of grass and grit from his cloak. "I suppose I'll see you Monday?"

I nod, my mind on how I was possibly going to handle a very emotional Harry and a very worried Hermione. "Call on me if the Slytherins get too rough or anything. If not Dumbledore, at least me."

He smiles as a reply and walks away without waiting for me or looking back towards a worn path of the grounds, keeping a fair distance away from the school. A few people litter the grounds, trying to finish homework, making out in bushes and the like. He blatantly ignores the stares and fingers pointing at him as he walks by them, heading out for a very lonely walk of the manicured lawns.

"Good luck." I whisper to his back, turning away to face my own demons within the school.

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**A/N: **Please review,

mintapotter


	4. Symphony of Happiness

**Title:** The Pressure of Perfection

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** When Draco's own problems are spinning out of control, he needs more than ever to reach out. But what if the one person that could help him is the one he keeps pushing away?

**Warning! **SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

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**Chapter 4 – A Symphony of Happiness**

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"Hermione? Harry? Can I come in?" I warily open the door to the 6th year boy's dormitories, scared to intrude upon any Ron bashing that I might be interrupting.

"Of course you can come in you git. Or am I too paranoid to let my friends into the room? Since when did I own the rights to the dormitory?" Harry's voice stings even more than his words, but I weave my way to his bed and sit on the edge opposite Hermione anyway.

"Listen, sorry about this morning. You already know that I didn't mean what I say, and you already know that I feel terrible about it." Harry doesn't say anything, waiting for me to continue. I'm still trying to find the right words to say, to get out all my thoughts into a coherent sentence.

"But? What's the but in this statement?"

"But," I start, "I still mean exactly what I said about Draco. He needs to get away from the Slytherins, he needs us to help him. He actually wants to be good, wants to be on our side. They'll mob him over there, if I could only make you see-"

"It's just that, I can't!" He interrupts, his voice sad and scared and angry all at the same time. "I can't trust people, least of all my enemies! How can I know that this isn't a ploy, how can you expect me to trust Draco Malfoy?"

"I'm not asking you to trust him then," I answer back slowly, "I'm asking you to trust me on this. Trust me that I would never let anyone near you that would hurt you if I could stop it. Just do this for me."

Hermione remains silent, the cogs in her head probably turning a million miles a minute. Harry leans against his bent up knees, his elbows resting on them and his chin resting in his hands. His eyes are really scared about this, this is something that worries him more than I've ever seen him.

"Don't do this to me Ron. Don't make me say no to you, you know that I can't." he's shaking his head. "You would never willingly put me in danger, but what if even you don't really know? What if he's got you tricked too? What if he hurts you, or Hermione, or me, and I have to look back on this moment and go 'I should have known that this was bound to happen. I should have listened to reason.' How can I settle all the 'what ifs'?" He's pleading with me for an answer, for just a reason to believe all that I want him to.

"I've seen the Draco Malfoy that the rest of the school has never had a chance to see. I've seen him totally normal and wanting to be something different, to get out of the hole his family has dug for him. In a few days he's convinced me that he has a lot more good than evil inside of him, and if you give him time I'm sure that he'll convince you. Just give him a chance. Just one chance." My voice won't rise to anything higher than a whisper, my hopes so high that I've won Harry over.

"Just give him some time, give me some time…" Hermione says eventually, rubbing Harry on the shoulder and leaving us in silence, alone with each other and our thoughts.

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"Please tell me that it's not Monday. Please, oh gods of time, return me to Sunday morning…" Someone smacked my face with a pillow and than ripped off the sheets as my Monday morning wake-up call. I was grumbling and cursing everyone in general all the way to the showers, but I knew that it was the only way possible to get me up in the morning.

"So Harry… thought about it?" I slip the question in as we walk to the Great Hall for breakfast, both of our hair barely dry, he still occupied with getting his tie respectably straight.

"Let me see how today goes, ok? Just let me mull it over a little." He's avoiding my eyes, a sure sign with Harry that he doesn't want to talk about it s I let the conversation die as we pass through the enormous wooden doors.

We sit down and both join the general conversation of the table, greeting Hermione as she enters a few minutes later and all of us avoiding the topic of Draco.

Until that is, Seamus decides to bring it up.

"You all seen the article yesterday, 'bout Draco?" everyone nods, Hermione throwing me a dark look like this was somehow my idea. "Well look at the bloke today! Those Slytherin bastards really have no heart, do they? They'll turn on anybody if they're not becoming a Death Eater, I suppose…" we all turn and try to be inconspicuous as we stare at him from across the Hall, but that's proving difficult seeing as most of the other students are already openly gaping.

Draco is always at the center of the table, his closest cronies flanking his sides and only the smartest, prettiest, sporty and most popular Slytherins in his midst. It scares me to think that all the other tables, including ours is like this but I ignore the thought for a moment.

Today his seat has been squeezed out by his two previous 'best friends', the incredibly thick Crabbe and Goyle. He sits alone at the end of the table, ignoring and being ignored by the assortment of people sitting near him. The center group chats and laughs like nothing is out of order, like they haven't just de-throned their king. He maintains an astounding aura of dignity even through his disgrace from being shafted from the core group. Girls throughout the school have been implying for days how his hair gives him a 'sexy, understated sort of royalty look' and this is a shining moment on his behalf for this.

We all turn around and the gossip mill is instantly up and at it again within seconds, only myself, Hermione and Harry staying out of it. I lock my jaw shut, preparing to keep my fat mouth closed if they both are still against helping him out. I understand they're skepticism, but that sure as hell doesn't mean that I agree with it.

"Ask him for supper. During class, keep it low key. I'll spread the word with the guys and Hermione will tell the girls, ok?" Harry whispers into my ear after a brief conference with Hermione. My locked jaw can't refuse the smile that spreads across my lips.

"Thanks." Is all I can manage to say, even though a symphony of happiness is playing in my head.

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**A/N:** Please review!

mintapotter


	5. Eating With the Enemy

**Title:** The Pressure of Perfection

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** When Draco's own problems are spinning out of control, he needs more than ever to reach out. But what if the one person that could help him is the one he keeps pushing away?

**Warning! **SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

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**Chapter 5 – Eating With the Enemy**

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"So Draco, what are your plans for supper?" I slip the question in early in the class, blurting it out without much thought into what to add later.

_Damn it! I am so not smooth at all!_

Harry and Hermione pair up together during our latest Care of Magical Creatures classes, talking quietly in the shade of a wizened tree by the edge of the forest. Everyone who feels like keeping their clothing on has fought over the pieces of shade to hide from the afternoon sun. Draco and I, some of the palest of the group opted instead to instead pop a few buttons, loosen our ties and roll up our sleeves to try and catch of few of suns rays.

"I was planning on skipping the entire affair and order something down to my room actually. Thanks a great fucking bundle for bringing it up." I think for a fleeting second of how much fun it would be to join him in his bedroom, to share a meal just between the two of us. I shake off the thought of it, concentrating on my original plan.

"I was actually wondering if you would care to join myself and the rest of the Gryffindor group tonight. Seeing as the Slytherin lot seems a bit below you now." I say it jokingly, pretending to write a sentence for out assignment on advanced alternative uses for Mandrakes.

"You are kidding me, right? Do you actually want to see me get lynched by your whole house, in front of the entire school?" He's trying to look me in the eyes, and I catch his gaze unflinchingly.

"Absolutely not. I've talked it over with Harry and Hermione," he opens his mouth to speak but I plod on anyways, "and they've agreed to talk to the rest of our year. There are fine with it, and I hope you are too. At least give us pathetic Gryffindors a chance. Please?" His mouth is a thin line, angry that I would bring Harry and Hermione into his problems.

"Just one chance. One is all I promise." I smile secretly, turning and sharing it with Hermione. She smiles back and turns to whisper in Harry's ear, the message being passed on.

"You do know that it's really creepy how you three can almost read each others minds, right?" I roll my eyes and delve back into the essay, my stomach fluttering at the thought of my plan rolling so smoothly along.

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"So, is he coming already? Are you sure he said yes?" Harry is frantic, searching the masses of students pouring into the Great Hall through the huge doors, watching for Draco's now infamous short blonde hair.

"Yes Harry, I am sure that I can interpret words like 'yes' quite well. He'll be here in a second, stop fretting or you'll start Hermione on it too." She throws me a dark look that I pretend to ignore, my stomach flopping at the thought of Draco chickening out.

"Looking for me?" we all turn in unison, a slightly smirking Draco standing behind us with arms crossed.

"Perhaps," I answer, barely holding in a sigh of relief at seeing his face, "but more importantly, where did you come from?"

"I suppose you missed me in all you're bickering." I slide over towards Harry to make room for him, Hermione sitting on his opposite. The rest of our year either piles food silently onto their plates or continues their conversations as if there is nothing out of place. We all follow suit, passing food back and forth and pitching into a conversation whenever possible. I feel so embarrassed for Draco since he appears to feel none. The ice at our table is palpable between people, a barrier that seems too difficult to break.

"How many?" Draco suddenly asks his plate of chicken, peas and rice. The number '520' appears in a mist above his plate, fading into the air within a few seconds.

"What the hell was that?" I ask, our area conspicuously quiet all of a sudden.

"Have you never tried?" he asks, shrugging his shoulders, "It's the number of calories in your meal. Just a useless fact really, nothing too important. Try it."

"How much?" I ask my plate, the number '1450' popping up above my plate in a mist.

"You're kidding me! That's nearly 3 times as much!" he bursts out laughing, a chain reaction the ripple's through the table, setting everyone off shaking their heads and giggling at me.

"Ron, as soon as your metabolism slows down you will be the fattest kid ever." Harry smiles as he adds afterwards, his voice mingling with those at the table asking 'How much?' to their plate and then laughing over the difference between them and their friends.

I shake my head and dig in anyway, the conversation now flowing like water rather than frozen in ice. Without even meaning to do it, Draco had created the ultimate icebreaker, something to get people talking and to let people laugh at. He and Hermione talk for a while over some super difficult potion set down in the NEWT level classes, finding common ground over something for once. Harry is pretty quiet but I can tell that even he has been converted a bit, has an ounce in trust in Draco now. I leave the table happy, my ultimate goals achieved.

_Maybe we can be friends. All of us, maybe we can make this work. Maybe._

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**And my final plea... please review and tell me what is on your mind! Questions, useful complaints, critisism and compliments are all well taken!**

Thank you all!

mintapotter


	6. So Damn Good

**Title:** The Pressures of Perfection

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** When Draco's own problems are spinning out of control, he needs more than ever to reach out. But what if the one person that could help him is the one he keeps pushing away?

**Warning! **SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N:** Warning of slash a la 'lemon' in this one. **BIG WARNING**! (BTW, why do people use the word lemon for these scenes?)

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**Chapter 6 – So Damn Good**

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The moment I return to my bedroom I shut the door and count slowly to ten before allowing myself to go through my nightly rituals. I need those ten seconds to close my mind against Ron's voice, the schools opinions, and Slytherins anger.

I quickly change into a pair of loose black sweats and a black T-shirt, throwing my clothes into a hamper to be washed by the house-elves overnight. Then I lay down on the slate floor and close my eyes to remember the exact number of calories of my supper only minutes ago.

_520._

"Alright," I whisper to myself, "time to get going." I pull my legs in until my knees are bent and facing the ceiling, then begin to pull my upper half all the way up, and back down. Rhythmically, I count out loud.

"One, two, three, four, five…"

Only 515 sit-ups left… 

At every 50 I stop for half a minute than continue, until my stomach aches, my neck is sore, my body is covered in sweat. I mentally curse myself for eating so much at one time. Had I eaten a few items less, I would have that many less sit-ups to do. This is my own self-punishment for gluttony, to keep myself in check at every meal, all day. I only ever count supper, since I can't do them after lunch and barely eat anything in the morning.

"…five hundred ninety, five hundred twenty." I sigh and let my whole body collapse on the floor, my throat burning from breathing so hard. I don't let myself look at the clock beside my bed, don't care how long it takes as long as I get it done.

"Shower, brush teeth and hair, change, essays, reading, sleep." I repeat my nightly mantra to myself, feeling my heart slowly coming down from it's frantic beating beneath my protruding ribs.

I force myself off the ground after 60 seconds, trudging my way into the stark white of my private bathroom. I let the water run for a good 30 seconds while undressing and throw my used clothes into the magical hamper, then step into the warm spray.

I scrub down with soap and a washcloth, rinse off and shampoo my hair. Rinse again, conditioner for 1 minute. This is my only wind down time in the day, these few minutes in the shower. I wash out the conditioner, turning up the heat so the jets pound onto my tired muscles. Then my mind begins to wander as my muscles relax and the kinks of my body come loose.

With all the hot water, the steamy air, my hands slick with the conditioner I let myself remember the last time I pleasured myself. The only time I do is in the shower, where the fact that you get cleaner combats the dirtiness of the act itself.

My hand wanders and meets my already hard cock, the feeling of it making me shiver from top to bottom. I lean with one arm against the cool tile of the shower wall, letting the other work it's own special source of magic. I pump hard and fast, thinking of nothing at all as usual. I can imagine others doing this for me, other people sucking me off or fisting me but never actually concentrate on who they are. As I pump faster an uncharacteristic gasp escapes my own lips, the water trailing down my face causing my eyes to squeeze shut and create images against my eyelids.

This particular time all I can imagine is someone else sucking me off, in the same shower which I now stand. I can imagine it being a boy, he jacking himself off at the same time. I grip myself harder, the hot water flowing down my body and cock making the idea all the more realistic. In my desires I am looking everywhere but at the boy, not caring whom it is. I thrust harder still, biting my lower lip as the first real tingles in my stomach start to signal my oncoming orgasm. My hand is silky and warm against the terribly aroused flesh beneath it. When I let my thumb circle my tip I can feel the sticky slickness of my pre-come, my breathing hitching and coming in faster gasps as I approach the ultimate. In the last few seconds I have left, I moan loudly in real life I look down in my fantasy to see the characteristic red headed boy I have come to know so well, head bobbing up and down fervently.

I gasp with surprise, a final moan escaping my lips I pass the brink, my cum swirling away down the drain with the hot water that continues to pound against me.

The final images in my mind are of Ron looking up with a devilishly sly grin, before I open my eyes to the very empty white tiled shower stall around me. I sink to the ground, letting the water wash over me and cleanse me one last time.

"Ron? I… and Ron?" I whisper out loud, my head wrapping around the thought. "Not just any guy but… Ron?" I shake my head, going through the rest of my night confused and concerned.

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"Hey, Draco! I really need help on this essay, could you help me before supper?" I rush towards Draco after the last class of the day, the weighting of our latest Potions essay pressing against my mind.

"What? Oh Ron…. Uh… hi. Sure, sure. What?" Draco's eyes go wide and I think he might even blush from embarrassment about being so flustered. I can't help but wonder why he has been so spacey today around me, but I ignore the thought that it's anything serious.

"You, me, the grounds." His eyes widen with confusion. "Potions essay you nitwit! Why are you so out of it today?" He shrugs this off, turning left with me towards the school grounds.

"Oh it's nothing. I just had a weird…night yesterday and it messed me up all today. Not enough sleep does that to me. It's nothing, really." I let him leave it at that, stopping at the huge oak overhanging the lake to set down my books.

"I got really burned last time we sat in the sun so I think the shade is better this time around." He nods and piles his books orderly around himself, the Potions texts closest and the other subjects farther away. Then he lies a single quill, an inkwell and one piece of smooth parchment at his other side. Every time he does anything super orderly or with too much precision I wonder about how he's coping with everything, how he does when people aren't around. Then I wonder at myself, prying beneath my thoughts of 'caring about he is doing' to just 'caring about him'.

I tear my eyes away from him for a moment to loosen my tie and pop the top buttons of my white button down shirt, shrugging my cloak off in the process.

"Has it not been fucking hot out lately? I swear, I would just walk around naked if it allowed." He stares at me with wide eyes again, a look of mild shock on his face yet again. His cheeks are tinted pink again as well, something I have seen not once ever before in all my years at Hogwarts. It's a look I enjoy way more than I could ever let on, ever tell Harry about.

"What? I was joking, just joking." He nods and pulls his eyes quickly away from me, knocking over his inkwell and ripping the corner of his parchment in the process of getting ready. I watch with mild interest and then get my own things in order.

"So, this essay is on the Sucking Beetle of lower London. Says here that it enjoys sucking… sucking leaves, leaves of the… what's that word there?" I pass the textbook to Draco, a smudged word too hard to make out. It takes him an entire minute to even _find_ the paragraph that I was reading, and a tad longer than normal to read the word out.

"It says '…it enjoys sucking the leaves of the Penisplant, I mean, the Penaclusplant. Oh gods…." I stare at him open-mouthed for a moment before dissolving into sidesplitting laughter, falling against the tree to keep from rolling away. He just covers his face with his hands, his cheeks a deeper crimson than even I have ever gone. I wipe the tears from my face a few minutes later, still enjoying his discomfort.

"Draco, that is one of the funniest things I believe you have ever said, even if it was by mistake…" I stop giggling when he sends me a death-glare with his grey eyes, choking on the laughs that continues to bubble up every time he reads 'Penaclusplant' out loud. Nearly an hour later we have completed a good half of the essay; ready to pack up and head in for supper.

"Care to join us Gryffindorks again for supper Draco? Yesterday didn't go half bad." He shrugs off my question as we gather our things, thinking it over.

"I don't see why not. The Slytherins hardly speak a word to me anymore anyway, at least over there I have some company. Not that I enjoy being around any of you, just that you make better companions than silent first years." He jokes, thankfully something he seems to be picking up.

"More like you can't resist my insatiable charm and wit." I raise an eyebrow, making the slyest grin I can possibly conceive. He stops walking for a moment, mouth agape.

"What? I was joking, but no need to completely disbelieve that I have _any_ wit or charm." He shakes his head like clearing a memory from inside his short cropped blonde skull, walking slowly alongside me.

"What really is wrong with you today? You are completely out of it! What happened?" I stop and grab his shoulder, staring deep into his stormy grey eyes. My hand tingles from the contact with him through his thin white shirt.

"Can… can I ask you a question?" he asks, staring shyly at his shoes. _Never_ have I seen Draco Malfoy shy, never. Angry, spiteful, depressed, enraged, happy, sly, sneaky… all those and more but never shy. The idea that he is shy around me of all people makes me shiver, like maybe he likes me more than he lets on as well.

"Yeah, sure. Ask anything." He swallows and nods like he trying to convince himself to do something.

"Come here then. It's private." There go all my thoughts that maybe this is an innocent question, a regular everyday question. He leads me over to a secluded corner of the school, a thin path between a section of a bush leading to an outdoor room of sorts. Two sides are made of the schools stone walls and the other two from fragrant lilac bushes. They are older than time itself it seems, creating a thick blanket with their branches so that sound itself is dampened and sight through them is impossible.

"Ron… are you gay?" he can't even look me in the eyes as he says this and that is s good thing seeing as how I let my books slide from my hands and allow my mouth to gape open.

"Uhh…" I stall. I really think I am, but how can you ever really know? I suppose I like Draco more than seem normal for any of my friends, but… "yes." I say it without much pause, thinking clearly about this for the first time in years.

Liking boys, mostly Draco in a way normally reserved for girls counts way more than anything as being gay. I never let myself really think it through, just accepted it as a thing that was.

"Yes, I think I am." He looks up and breathes deeply, nodding as if that was the correct answer.

"Thank the gods." He whispers before pulling my face down and kissing me full on the lips. My eyes remain obstinately open with frantic confusion, than settle closed with unexplained pleasure. I set my hands around his back and pull him towards me until we are perfectly aligned, mouths and bodies exactly as I want them to be. Together.

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"Thank the fucking gods Ron. If you weren't than I would have to spend the rest of my days with you as awkward as I was today." I take a deep breath and nestle into his shoulder, sliding my hands down to his back to just hold him close.

"Do you think that this is wrong?" I whisper without thinking, looking up into his eyes for the answer. I can imagine what others would think; My Father and Mother, the Slytherins, Hogwarts, the world at large. Their opinions however mean little to me compared to his answer, which is held in his eyes with confusion.

"How can this be wrong when we fit together so perfectly, when it feels so damn good?" he whispers back, kissing me for reassurance. I breathe him in and sigh with assurance, his answer more perfect than I could have ever asked for.

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**A/N:** And...

please review!

luv

mintapotter


	7. Don't Change a Thing

**Title:** The Pressures of Perfection

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** When Draco's own problems are spinning out of control, he needs more than ever to reach out. But what if the one person that could help him is the one he keeps pushing away?

**Warning! **SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N:** Back, tentatively, after a very prolonged break. I really love tihs story and want to continue but need a lot of inspiration and even more time to prewrite the chapter but here's a little payoff for all that annoying waiting!

And love and kisses to:

**MimiTaylor, ****Star, ****GCsRiotGirl27, ****Spike'sSavior, ****BlackDragon1126, ****justme, ****CatC10, ****FluffysBijin05, ****RipOutTheWingsOfAButterfly-HIM,** **owlri, ****poxmaker, ****Renn, ****HPfreakout,** **Midnight, **& **brionyjae**!

Enjoy!

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**Chapter7 – Don't Change a Thing**

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"…two hundred, two hundred and one…"

Even as I counted the number of crunches in my head I knew that Ron would be disappointed in me. I knew that if he were ever to find out he would be angry, he would be sad. He might feel responsible.

"…two hundred and ten, two hundred eleven…"

I felt with every fibre in my being that if I managed to do a single crunch for every single calorie that I ate that that still wouldn't be enough to keep from getting fat. I knew that I should do more, to stop being so lazy and fat and ugly and to try harder. But I was also feeling that even when I ate less and exercised more, late at night I was still steadily getting weaker. I wasn't getting stronger and fit, only uglier by the day.

"…two hundred and fifty, two hundred fifty one…"

I closed my eyes and kept up the rhythmic counting in my head, my breathing too labored to be able to speak the words out loud. Every muscle in my stomach and back ached and burned; all my skin was covered in a sheen of sweat that made me shiver in the dank dungeon air. The stone beneath me dug, hard in my back but that wouldn't stop me. Nothing ever had.

"…Two hundred seventy, two hundred seventy one…"

"Draco? What the hell are you doing?"

Well, nothing had ever stopped me before today.

"Ron? What the hell are you doing down here?" I felt unworthy of his clean, wholesome appearance in my black sweats and T-shirt.

"I wanted to check on you, see how you were doing. I thought maybe… I didn't expect this. I thought you were past this."

Ron closed the door behind himself with the quiet and fluidity he never seemed to exhibit around other people. For some reason he was always so calm and peaceful whenever he was around me but now this calm was unnerving.

I was expecting rage, or at the very least anger. I wanted to be slapped and woken up from what I was doing. I needed the kind of rude awakening that I wasn't getting form anybody.

"I-I-I… I tried and I do try but it's hard. It's not overnight, it's… it's the mud and the haircut and the food. It's the everything! I can't control everything; I can't make everything perfect! I'm trying though, I'm getting really close…"

I'm back to the rambling, bumbling idiot of the prefets bathrooms. My eyes are as dry as dirt rather than overflowing with tears. I'm falling apart and keeping myself glued together for the sake of perfection at the same time.

"You're already as perfect as perfect gets Draco. I thought maybe I got that through to you. You're beautiful to me."

Ron kneels in front of me to whisper this; his oceanic blue eyes visible just above my knees. He grabs each one of my hands in his and pulls me up so that I stand in front of him rather than below.

"You just refuse to see what's really there. You just don't want to see that I still-" Ron shakes his head at what I say before he cuts in.

"How about I see you as beautiful, just like I said? And if we could pretend just for a moment, I'd like you to think of the only person it matters to you to impress. And if you thought of everyone you know, it would be…who?"

He smiles at me, questioning. I spit out the words without a single second thought.

"My Father. My Mother. You."

Ron keeps smiling but his eyes are sad and I know that it's because I gave the wrong answer. I can't even answer his simplest question right.

"I'm sorry, that's wrong-"

"No actually, that's completely right. Those are the people you try to impress, to show that you're perfect. And you know where that's landed you?" I shake my head 'no' and he grins wider as his eyes water, his hands holding the sides of my face. "It's landed you here in your bedroom at school on the cold floor doing sit-ups you don't need. And it landed you in that prefect's bathroom with your hands freezing and bleeding. And if that's the right answer to you, then that's your choice. I'm not going to make you change anything Draco. Not a thing."

He's still gazing into my eyes with the saddest look of all but I push his hands away and hold myself, shivering already in the dungeon air.

"What do you mean that that's the right answer? It's got to be wrong, those aren't good things! And I'm not proud of that Ron, I'm not! But I don't know what the right answer is and if you'd just help me…"

He walks right up to me and holds me as tight as he did behind those bushes only days ago. I rest my head on his shoulder and wonder how I'm not crying and why he won't tell me the answer until I hear his voice in my ear.

"What if I told you that the better answer was to only impress yourself? Not your Father, and not your Mother and most definitely don't try and impress me. What if I told you that if you only have your own standards you'll be happy and this, this thing your doing now won't happen?"

I understand every word from Ron's mouth but when I string them together I don't understand what to hear. I try to push him away, to leave him and all his confusion behind me but he holds me close still.

"What do you mean by that? If my Father isn't happy then I get disowned and if my Mother isn't happy with me then she gets drunk! And if you're not happy with the way I am then you'll just up and leave…and what do I have to change in myself if I only compare myself to…me?"

Ron laughs into my shoulder and whispers "Nothing will have to change Draco. Nothing does."

He pulls away a little and plants a peck on the crown of my head, then a softer one on my lips. It's funny how only the thought of him leaving spurs me into action.

"Don't tell me that you like me just the way I am. That's not possible. People don't just love people for who they are, there's always something they want to change in each other. What do you want me to be better at?"

"Nothing Drake, nothing at all. You're already amazing, I told you that. And before you demand an answer," Ron disappears for a moment into my wardrobe and leaves me shivering on my bed only to return with a hoodie for me, "what do you want to change in me? What's the one thing you'd want different?"

I take the sweater and pull it over my head all the while thinking of something I want different in Ron, something I don't like and want to change. And after a minute I'm still drawing on blanks and he tries to fill it in.

"Would you like my hair brown, or black? Or no freckles, maybe gray or green or brown eyes, maybe you wish I were shorter? Or that I got 100 in Potions, or maybe-"

"Just stop it! You can't change those things, I'd never ask you for that! And I don't you to change, if I wanted something different I would have gone after that!"

Ron grins as wide as he has in days and whispers "Precisely what I was trying to say this entire time. I could never make you or want you to change a thing."

And then he kisses me the way only he ever could, the way that confirms that he loves me just the way I am. And maybe, at least for tonight that'll be enough, to know that even if I don't approve of myself yet, someone out there does.

A beautiful and perfect someone named Ron Weasley.

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**A/N: **Please, please review!

luv,

mintapotter


	8. A Little Place Not Far From Here

**Title:** The Pressure of Perfection

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** When Draco's own problems are spinning out of control, he needs more than ever to reach out. But what if the one person that could help him is the one he keeps pushing away?

**Warning! **SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N:** Thank you's are at the end this time...

and to everyone, please enjoy, read and review!

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Chapter 8 - A Little Place, Not Far From Here

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It's funny when I look at how I act before and after seeing Draco. Before all I am is a ball of nerves around Harry and Hermione, hoping against all hope that they don't notice me sneaking off yet again to see him. I realize every so often how slow I have to take this, lest they see what's really going on.

And then I actually spend 5 minutes or 10, or an hour with him and then everything falls into place and I can just be myself. He actually has the effect on making me calm, maybe because that's the only way to combat his constant tension.

And then there's the dreadful parting right afterwards, where all I want is to spend another 10 minutes alone. But I always have to trudge back to my old friends, or back to a class. I hate when I always have to have something to prove about my absences.

Draco has the pleasure of dealing with that and much more, so I guess I shouldn't be complaining about anything.

But the weirdest part is how well he can put up a front. It's like his entire life is some huge game of poker and he never lets his face drop. My stomach was tied in knots all night after I left his bedroom, afraid that maybe as sincere as he seemed to me he still wasn't going to change anything. That maybe I'd catch him another time, doing something else awful and regret not staying with him longer the last time.

But then he arrives at breakfast his white teeth and perfect skin like he's walked right out of some commercial for eternal happiness. It hurts a lot more now to know what goes on behind his smile.

It hurts 10 times more however when Hermione and Harry force him into some pathetic small talk that he politely keeps up even when I know he's aching to leave. He wants to talk with me as bad as I do with him but here we are, stuck in the Great Hall with no excuse to leave for the next 10 minutes.

Lovely.

"Draco, did you ever understand the balancing in that formula Snape set down? After the snout was added I just couldn't think of it-" Hermione's nose is still scrunched up in concentration as though she were reading the question as she spoke.

Draco turned as though to answer her but his face instead turned to a little shock and fear.

"Oh no! I finished it last night, but I think…oh I left it somewhere, I just can't remember where…"

His pause is prolonged as I stare at him, and I notice his eyes widen a little and his head shake at me, like he urging me on to something. The cogs that had already clicked in his head slowly fell into place in mine.

"Oh yeah, I remember that…Ms. Pince asked me if I had left an essay in the library…I had to pop in and study there last night and… I think it was yours. I'll come with you to get it from here and then we can all meet up for class."

Before Harry had time to chew and swallow his waffle Draco and I were up and gone, the Great Hall's volume increasing slightly as we pass through it's doors.

"You are terribly slow on the uptake you know."

I try and make a horrible kind of scoff at him but he takes one look at me and laughs.

"Don't keep your face like that, it might freeze that way forever."

We walk in silence for a few seconds before I notice that we aren't heading in the direction of the Library at all.

"Where are we going exactly?"

He checks over his shoulder and scans the hallway in front of us quickly before responding, "A little place I know of."

I decide that any further questions are pointless so I simply walk with him until we reach a tapestry depicting 7 maidens all too busy fretting over their own looks to notice us. Draco slips his finger down the edge of it and it slides sideways off the wall smoothly, revealing a tiny room with a fireplace and a few scattered chairs and tables.

"It's a quiet place to finish up homework and things between classes. I think I'm the only one who actually uses it at all now, so it's as safe as it gets."

I drop my bookbag onto the floor and sink myself into a plush looking chair, watching Draco carefully slide the tapestry back into place behind us. With it closed the room appears as dark as the castle does around midnight, only the soft light of the constant fire flickering throughout the space.

Draco smiles tiredly and plops himself into a chair across from me, pinching his nose in concentration.

"About last night…"

I honestly can think of nothing to add, and I'm more than sure that this moment is not about me so I keep my mouth shut and wait for him to continue.

"I'm terribly stupid when it comes to myself and whenever I let myself get too worked up about something, or worried or stressed…I just overreacted. I do that all the time and I'm really lucky to have you around to stop me most of the time, but I don't expect you to always come to my rescue. And I don't want my own behavior to become your responsibility so…"

He shakes his head to clear it and begins to rap his fingers on his knee. I can't let him continue as he is, so I interrupt his silence.

"Draco, why are you getting all worked up over talking to me? Just tell me-"

"I need your help. There, I said it. I need your help to stop being so…perfect?"

"To stop being a perfectionist, Draco. I've already told you that you're perfect to me and whole lot of other people, and you don't have to change a thing for anybody."

"Yeah," he nods at that idea, staring away from me and into the fire, "that whole idea. I need a lot of help doing that."

I smile because he's finally broke through the barrier he builds up around other people so he can just talk to me. It's a miracle he can even do that now, but I'm confident that he can change.

"Let me tell you, I'm the master of being an unperfectionist. I hardly ever fold my clothes, and I'm always spilling ink and losing parchment, or bunching them up-"

"You're a klutz and a pig, that's what you are." He's finally smiling at me, his fingers no longer tapping his knee but grasping mine. Perfect.

"Well if you're going to generalize like that then you'd be a…a…. model and a robot."

He laughs at me and shakes his head, the stupidity raining out of my own mouth astounding.

"A model, and a robot? The first is really a compliment, and the second is-"

"True! If I'm a pig then you're a robot! Admit it! You probably arrange your socks by colour!"

He pulls his hand away in mock disgust. "And you don't? And that's not a fair assumption, you were in my closet yesterday!"

"Yes I was, and everything was arranged by colour and type. And I think that maybe one day you'll walk in there and your t-shirts will be completely random, and your jeans will be with you school pants and-"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Try me!"

We've gotten so embroiled in our own fake fight that we've both stood up out of our chairs and are alarmingly close. Draco grabs me as soon as I yell out the words 'try me' and kisses me with just the right kind of abandon. Not too much tongue but just enough to make me really, really riotously pissed off when I hear a crowd's feet stampeding past out hideaway.

"Class starts in a few minutes and we have no excuse to be late." It's the most useless reason to not continue making out but it's also very true. Draco takes an extra second to figure out that we must both leave so that he takes his time to remove his hands from my shoulders and tries to step away.

I can tell that that was the last thing he wanted to do so before he turns to grab his bookbag and I swing him around and just hold him, waiting for his own arms to wrap around me.

"You'll be fine today Drake, you've got me. Just ignore the Slytherins and the rumors, because you know they're not true. I know you and I know how you are, and you're stronger than this entire school put together. We'll be fine, ok?"

He nods his head shakily into my shoulder, only releasing his grip after I kiss the crown of his head and let him go as well. He pulls back and stares at the ceiling, blinking away his few lingering tears.

"Let's go." He murmurs, sliding the tapestry away.

"Right behind you."

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**A/N: **Thank you to the beautiful reviewers: **brionyjae, ****Midnight808,** **MimiTaylor, **&**Siren713 **! Your reviews are what make me smile everytime I sit down to write, so keep them coming.

Please keep reviewing,

luv,

mintapotter


	9. Disorderly Conduct

**Title:** The Pressure of Perfection

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** When Draco's own problems are spinning out of control, he needs more than ever to reach out. But what if the one person that could help him is the one he keeps pushing away?

**Warning!**SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N:** Thank you are at the bottom again...

Please enjoy!

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Chapter 9 - Disorderly Conduct

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Ron is sincerely the weirdest, most unexplainable creature I have ever met.

Twice today has he been berated by a teacher for forgetting his homework, he dropped a vial of essence of tulip in Potions (among the most expensive of essences) and managed to fall asleep in Divination.

Twice.

But after all that, after the last of our classes and supper, he's the exact opposite.

He slipped into my room a little after 10, remembering to lock the door and charm the room quiet. He had stolen Potter's invisibility cloak, and managed not to trip over or disturb a single sheet of my homework methodically spread out on the floor.

"Hey you. Why are you working on this already?" he whispered even though the room was charmed silent, kissing the crown of my head before joining me on the floor.

He really was like the perfect anti stress drug. I could actually feel the tension flowing out of my shoulders.

"I have two other reports due the day after tomorrow, and this one is the hardest so I'm doing it tonight. It's called time management, a little something you know nothing of."

He tried to give me a withering look but couldn't pull it off, settling back onto his elbows and sighing.

"What if I were to tell you that I was doing this one tomorrow morning and the other two tomorrow night? What would you say to that?"

I scoffed at him, waving my wand at the open book before me and colour coding the chapters and pages for future reference. "I'd say that you wouldn't pull it off in a million years, and that you should try and get some done tonight."

"And what if," he leaned in closer to whisper in my ear, "I had much more interesting plans for tonight than doing a stupid report? And what if I said that they just might include you?"

Ok, I tried my very best to keep a straight face and retort something smart, or perhaps witty. But when you've got a voice that deep and alluring whispering something like that in your ear, it's hard to resist.

I smiled.

"I knew that you'd like that plan much, much better." He smirked at me, pushing my shoulders slowly to the floor and kissing my neck softly.

"How is it that you're so good and put together for this, and can't keep the rest of your life straight?"

He ignored my question for a moment, laughing lightly while still kissing a trail down to my collarbone.

"You calm me down. I think your compulsive organization rubs off on me when I'm around you for too long."

"Well your constant state of disarray hasn't rubbed off on me a bit."

He raised his eyebrows, cocking his head to the right.

"So I suppose the fact that you just subconsciously pushed all your work into a pile has nothing to do with that, does it?"

I looked over in disbelief and true to form all my precariously stacked and labeled sheets had been muddled together thanks to my stretching leg and arm.

"Oh. Point for you then."

He laughed again, louder this time. I sat up off the floor, rolling my shoulders to try to get the muscles to relax. Ron, ever mindful, noticed and snuck up behind me, scooting until he sat directly behind me.

"What in the world has you so stressed out today?"

His fingers were the epitome of magic, his hands strong as they carefully pushed and pulled my muscles into subjugation. I could feel the warmth from his body radiating behind me, my mind going blissfully blank just from his touch.

"I don't know. I can make a mountain from a molehill I guess. And I can't stand not talking to you all day, pretending not to care all the time. It's tiresome."

He sighed behind me, his hands slowing on my back and pulling me back until I was leaning against him, my back pressed into his chest.

"I know. But Harry and Hermione are already so weirded out that anything else I do is suddenly suspicious. I can't mess this up. I won't."

I nodded my response, my heart feeling heavy all of a sudden. Ron might be my pillar of sanity, this thing I could lean on and count on to be there when my own mind wasn't reasonable. But he needed me too, and that was something that hurt me to know. He counted on me even when I was unstable and could barely take care of myself.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, his arms tightening instantly around mine.

"For what Drake? Nothing's your fault." I could feel the rumble of his voice go right through me, back to front. I was so warm and tight and close to him that I closed my eyes and tried really, really hard to block out what I was so sure of that I'd fuck up.

"Well…you always come around and keep me half sane, and then I give you nothing in return. Well, except something to worry about all the time. I mean, you can't even trust me not to hurt myself half the time, so I'm sorry I'm not a better person. You deserve better."

Ron sighed behind me. "That's not true Draco. I wouldn't be here if you weren't wonderful, which you are. And I'll say it as long as I live, you're worth it. You're worth all the sneaking out at eleven at night, and all the worry and everything. And my whole life I was pretty sure that you were the one who deserved better than me. You made that point quite clear long ago." His voice swindled off into time, he and I both remembering the kinds of comments that used to pass between us.

"You see! I hurt you and I'll never be sorry enough for that, never. And I don't think that anymore Ron, I don't. I never really cared I just… I was a fuck up, ok? Still am, on that matter."

Ron let go of me, standing up and I was sure he was about to walk right out my door, leaving me very cold and very alone on the dungeon floor. And with everything considered, I couldn't blame him. But he did nothing of the sort, instead sitting directly in front of me so I had to look him in the face.

"Draco, please just listen to me for a minute." He grasped my hands, warming them within his own. "I don't blame you for anything. And I don't hate you for anything you've done. And I really do think that you're beautiful and perfect in every way and that you're much too hard on yourself sometimes. And I want to help you get over that, no matter how long that takes. Because you, of all people in the world are really worth it. Alright?"

Ron's blue eyes were so sincere that even though I didn't want to believe what he was saying, I had no choice but to. Everything about him, from his lopsided smile down to his freckles was so sweet that I couldn't help but think that maybe he was right about something. Maybe I was worth his time, maybe I really wasn't as ugly as I had myself out to believe.

Well, crazier things have happened.

"Alright." I responded finally, a grin spreading quickly across his face.

"Perfect. Good luck on all this," he swept his hand over my pile of papers, "and I'll see you for breakfast in the morning. Good night."

He swept himself off the floor and helped me up by my hands at the same time, pulling away for a moment only to come back in for the most grandly inappropriate goodnight kiss of my life. I believe they were supposed to be chaste but affectionate affairs? I could already recognize his taste on my lips, already yearning for that amazing tongue and those passionate lips. His hands tangled my hair and pulled me in closer, his eyelashes tickling my own eyes and cheeks.

Safe to say, Ron left nothing to be wanted in _that_ department.

"See you." I murmured breathlessly as he disappeared under the cloak with a very sly smile and slipped back out my door, leaving me more than a little dizzy and exponentially more so wanting him to come back.

"So," I muttered to myself, stepping straight through my previously organized pile of papers and towards my bathroom to get ready for an early sleep, "if that's the payoff for being a little disorderly and a tad late…count me in."

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**A/N:** Thank you to: **Megalicious Moony,** **MimiTaylor,** **Siren713,** **Yoshi12,** **Midnight808, **&**brionyjae. **Your reviews always make me smile guys!

Please keep reviewing,

mintapotter


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